


the morning after

by insufferableknowitall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Missing Scene, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26456056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insufferableknowitall/pseuds/insufferableknowitall
Summary: the morning after the Yule Ball, Harry noticed that Ron and Hermione were being awfully cordial to one another. what happened between that cordial breakfast and the explosive row the night before?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	the morning after

The morning after their explosive, common-room filling fight, Hermione woke up bright and early. She wasn’t well rested at all, but knew she’d never be able to fall back asleep. Parvati and Lavender were both still sound asleep, exhausted from dancing up late into the night. And while Hermione’s sore feet longed to get some more rest, her mind was too occupied with her fight with Ron to go back to bed. 

Had she really told him to pack up the courage and ask her next time - had she really let that slip? She felt her cheeks turn red as she slipped out of bed and quietly changed out of her pajamas. Her hair was still straight from the night before and traces of mascara clung to her eyelashes. The redness of her cheeks deepened as she recalled more of Ron’s words - who was he to tell her who she could go to the dance with? It’s not like they were...well, anything more than friends. And besides, it was just a stupid ball date - shouldn’t he have been excited, big Viktor Krum fan he was? Apparently, not anymore. 

She grabbed a bag of books of her nightstand and made her way down the stairs into the common room. She figured if she was going to be awake before the whole castle, she may as well get ahead on some reading (that is, further ahead). 

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was nearly convinced that she was still asleep and dreaming; there was no way that Ron Weasley would be up before her on a weekend morning, especially after a late-night. She blinked once, twice, but sure enough, there he was: familiar head of red hair and maroon sweater slumped over in front of the fireplace.

She considered turning on her heel and heading back upstairs - he was the last person she wanted to see, at the moment, but then he turned. His eyes, red-rimmed and sleep-deprived, met hers. He rubbed at them, and then cocked an eyebrow. “Whattimeizzit?” He mumbled groggily. 

“Nearly seven,” she said. She took the last few steps down the stairs and into the common room. “What are you doing up?”

He shook his head and sat up straighter as she approached him. “Could ask you the same thing.”

“But you never get up early.” She narrowed her eyes at him and clutched her bag of books in her hands. She didn’t know if she should sit down with him, or just head to the library - though she didn’t know if it would even be open, with the holidays and all. Would another row break out if she took the seat across from him? Would she be able to keep herself from yelling at him if he made one more rude remark?

“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered, “I mean, I tried, but…kept waking up, so I just came down here. Neville was snoring bloody loudly, and…you know you can sit, right?”

“Right.” She took her seat awkwardly. She could feel his gaze on her, but she kept hers on her books, removing them one by one from her bag and placing one on her lap. She wouldn’t bring it up, that’s what she’d do. She wouldn’t mention the Yule Ball, or Viktor Krum, ever again in front of Ron, and then maybe his temper would cool and maybe he’d forget that she’d told him he should have asked her (the memory made her blush) and maybe things would go back to normal. Whatever normal was between the two of them - that definition had shifted slightly, at least on her end, over the last year or so. Though she’d never admit it. 

But from the corner of her eye, she could see his knee bouncing up and down. He was nervous. She knew all his tell-tale signs - he’d fidget and stutter and get real quiet and self-deprecating. Why did she know all his nervous habits? She didn’t know Harry’s, not so specifically. But of course she knew why she knew all his habits - she just hated to admit she’d been paying more attention to him lately, more attention to him than anyone else. 

“Hey Hermione?” his voice, shaky and slightly nervous, jolted her out of her thoughts. 

“Hmm?”

“Well...uh...I just...I think I should probably…”

“It’s fine, Ron,” she snapped. While she’d spent half the night angry at him for yelling at her, for not apologizing, the minute he started to say he was sorry she cut him off. Because if they had that conversation, they’d have to have the conversation, about why they were really fighting in the first place.

“What?”

“It’s fine, really,” she continued, daring to glance up at him, “Water under the bridge, we can just pretend it didn’t happen…”

“Hermione I’m trying to apologize.”

“I know, and - ”

“You’re making it difficult” 

“Sorry.” She chewed on her bottom lip and raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. Half-tempted to steal Harry’s invisibility cloak and disappear right there on the spot. 

Ron took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “All right. Well. Sorry for yelling at you like a prat. I...dunno why I got so upset, I shouldn’t have…”

“You don’t?” The words slipped out before she could stop herself. She bit the inside of her cheek, hard, embarrassed by how bold and simultaneously desperate she sounded with two little words. Why couldn’t things just be normal with him? Had they really ever been normal with him?

Ron cleared his throat, clearly trying to cover up his spluttering, then said in a quiet voice: “Um, well, reckon I might have been a bit, I dunno...jealous.”

“Oh.” The silence was deafening. When he said jealous, he didn’t mean… no. He couldn’t. He must have meant jealous because she didn’t spend the night with him and Harry, or because both her and Harry got to dance first, as champions, and she knew he’d been feeling bad about being left out. That had to be the only explanation. Because if he was jealous of Viktor, and not because of his quidditch skills, that meant he was jealous because of her. She swallowed hard and pushed the possibility deep down into the corners of her mind. She couldn’t get too far ahead of herself. 

Ron had suddenly become very interested in playing with a loose string on his sweater. His ears were bright red, and she could feel her cheeks turning pink. Why wasn’t there a spell to stop that? 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you too,” she finally spoke. 

He glanced up and met her eyes, finally. The corner of his mouth lifted into a small smirk. “It’s all right.”

“No, it wasn’t very nice at all. I...I hate it when we fight. Like last year, with Scabbers…”

“Me too,” Ron admitted. He hadn’t taken his gaze off of her. It was making her nervous. 

“Let’s make a truce,” she said. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “A truce?”

“Like a compromise, when people - ”

“I know what a truce is, Hermione,” he grumbled with an eye roll, “I’m not that thick.”

“Well, you asked - ”

“So a truce?” he interrupted, clearly not looking to start another row, “What, no more fights?”

“I suppose.”

“I mean, I don’t mind the little fights, but the big ones…”

“Yes, exactly. Bickering is fine. We can’t expect to agree on everything.”

“Yeah. Just no more rows.”

“Yes.”

He grinned and stuck out his hand towards her. She grasped it and shook, and tried not to think about how nice his hand felt in hers. Of course, trying not to think of that was a failed effort - it was all she thought of for the entirety of breakfast. And the rest of the weekend. And quite possibly the rest of the week.

And that morning, when they sat at the breakfast table across from Harry, Harry couldn’t help but notice that they were being particularly cordial to one another.

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a hot minute since I've posted any fic! I blame the pandemic. writer's block has been like no other. this fic isn't edited and was just a little thought bunny I popped out, but has helped me jump back on the writing train, so am thankful for that! be gentle pls :)


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